The Bottom of the Glass
by BlueSuedeShoes
Summary: For Chlollie: Chloe's meteor powers return with reinforcements.  Instead of talking to anyone about it, even Oliver, she finds a different refuge.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Comment: Written in response to a prompt from Chlollie. Thanks for the idea. As a warning, I may not adhere directly to the plot you gave me, but we'll see how it turns out.**

**BlueSuedeShoes**

* * *

**--1--**

You are born. You live. One day you die.

That's the natural order, the way things are meant to be. Chloe once thought that her ability to heal had been a gift, she had defended it until she was blue in the face, but it didn't stop her from lying awake wondering if she was messing with something mere mortals should have no control over. Had she been playing God?

The concern vanished along with her powers. She told herself that it was for the best, and over time, she came to believe it, however difficult it was to see friends and loved ones get hurt and know that she could do nothing about it.

More time passed and she found herself forgetting about the power to heal. Life brought in new concerns, new puzzles. Sometimes new joys. The Kandorians, the Justice League, Checkmate--they all provided distraction...or maybe it was focus? Either way, she had more than enough on her hands to drive out all thought of a former meteor mutation that had either gone dormant or simply left her system.

She wasn't sure what made her think of it as she lay there one night, wide awake as Oliver slept soundly beside her. It was strange. She hadn't thought about it in such a long time, hadn't _wanted_ to think about it. Life had simply moved along and taken her with--however bumpy the ride may have been.

She sighed, shaking the thoughts from her exhausted mind. She rolled over, snuggling into Oliver. He'd stayed the night again, she noted. It had begun happening more and more frequently lately. Not that she minded, she supposed. It was nice having him there, comforting.

She sighed a weary sigh, willing sleep to find her, which it eventually did.

Little did she know it would be the most sleep she got for a long while.

* * *

The next day began ordinarily. She had a muffin for breakfast, bickered with Clark on the phone, then bickered with Lois on the phone. She sent the league on their assignments, everyone but Oliver, who had a business meeting in Star City.

"I don't want to go," he said to her childishly as she attempted to shove him out the door.

"You have to," she said, failing to repress a grin.

"Why?"

"Because you're a big boy now."

"Mmm, true," he said, kissing her. "But I feel that being all grown up means that now more than ever is the time to slough off responsibilities."

"How do you figure?"

"I'm am ebbing closer and closer to that time of life where I will have a mid-life crisis, meaning I should enjoy my prime as much as possible."

Chloe rolled her eyes and straightened his tie. "Go. We're acting like a married couple and if you don't get out of here it's just going to get more absurd."

"Aw, why, wifey? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Get your butt out that door before I file for a divorce," she threatened.

"All right, all right. I'm going!" He raised his hands in surrender, but instead of leaving he bent over to kiss her again, this time more suggestively. Chloe had to excessively very hard to keep her knees from going weak. "That," he said as he pulled away, "is for you to think about while I'm gone."

Fighting a smile she finally succeeded in shoving him out the door.

The rest of the day was uneventful. She monitored a possible smuggling ring forming, but otherwise had little to do. At five o'clock in the evening, she put on her coat and decided to get herself some coffee.

It was as she rounded the bend that it happened.

She wasn't prepared for the sound of a cry for help, let alone for the sound of a gun shot. She pulled out her own hand gun and rounded the corner where the noise had come from, preparing to call the police or fire: whichever one was most necessary.

She found no criminal, though, only a young girl, lying on the ground, quickly bleeding to death.

Chloe rushed to her side, pulling off her jacket and using it to put pressure on the wound. "Stay with me, honey. We're going to get you some help. It will all be fine," she reassured her, removing one hand to reach for her cell phone to call an ambulance. Before she could do any such thing, though, the alley was filled with a bright light. Chloe found her hand, which had slid onto the woman's bare arm, felt as if it had been welded in place.

Her body felt as though a rush of wind that had originated inside of her was coursing through her body and then pain shot through her, a bullet wound identical to the one that had injured the girl in front of her formed in her body and then, just as swiftly, healed over.

Chloe fell forward a moment, gasping for air. She saw the surprised look on the young girl's face and everything was confirmed as both their eyes turned to her now perfectly mended skin. Chloe stood up, backing away from her.

"Oh my God." Neither of them was sure who said it.

"Please don't tell anyone," Chloe said. "You'll be fine."

The girl, who couldn't have been more than sixteen, stared at Chloe in disbelief. "Who would believe me?"

Chloe shook her head, her thoughts spinning out of control to the point that she thought they might physically break free from her body, each one puncturing holes in her skull as it left.

Without another word, she ran. Straight back to Watchtower. There she slammed all doors and turned on all alarms before leaning against the door, clutching her heart in her hand as she began to hyperventilate. She shook herself.

"Get a grip, Chloe," she told herself firmly.

But her body was still shaking uncontrollably with shock. She pushed herself away from the door and walked over to the liquor cabinet for the bottle of bourbon. She poured herself more than was strictly a good idea and drank it, grimacing when she removed the glass from her lips, but at least her body steadied itself. With a firm hand she dropped the glass to the counter and took in a long, ragged breath of air before finally voicing the question aloud:

"Why aren't I dead?"

She didn't have the strength to wonder how and why her ability had suddenly returned. That was too much for her. So she turned to a more significant issue: the fact that she should be lying dead in that alley, should have remained that way for several hours. That was how it had always worked. Whenever she had healed a fatal wound it had taken hours upon hours for her body to rejuvenate and return her to the land of the living. This time it had healed in a matter of seconds, barely long enough for more than a couple of drops of blood to seep into her blouse, she noted. She went to remove it, trying to decide whether to try washing it or to just have the evidence burned. Wearily she stuffed it in the bottom of a hamper of dirty clothes.

She walked over to the mirror and examined herself, feeling the clean skin where the bullet wound had been. No scar, no trace remained except a light streak of dried blood. She quickly rubbed it away.

Her body was perfectly mended and she didn't even feel a slight ache as though a bruise might have formed.

She wondered if she should be grateful. She could be lying dead in an alley at that moment, or worse, in a morgue being prepped for autopsy. And she'd saved that girl's life. That was good, wasn't it?

Or was she playing God again?

Who had decided it was right for her to have this power, anyway? What was she supposed to do with it? How was she supposed to control it?

She shook herself. She pulled a warm sweater from her drawer and threw it on over her head before walking back to the bottle of bourbon. She poured herself another glass.

Then she picked up her cell phone and deliberated the numbers on her speed dial.

1. Lois

2. Oliver

3. Clark

She shook her head in dismay and hit the fourth.

"Hello?" came the male voice at the other end after a couple of rings.

"Hi, Dr. Hamilton."

"Miss Sullivan? What can I do for you?"

"I need to see you...as soon as possible."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. It's sort of an emergency."

"Can it wait until tomorrow? I'm in Haiti."

"Yes. That's fine. Let me know as soon as you have time to see me."

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound distraught."

"I'll be fine. It's--I'll explain everything in person. Have a safe trip, doctor."

"Thank you. Take care, Miss Sullivan. I'm sure everything will be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Chloe hit the button to end the call and dropped the phone carelessly on the counter.

"Oh, God," she said softly. "God help me."

She reached for the bourbon again, but this time she didn't pour another glass, instead lifting it directly to her lips.


	2. Chapter 2

--2--

When Chloe woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing the next morning she groaned, sleep bogging down her mind.

She looked around her. She'd fallen asleep on the couch. Closing her eyes, she moaned again. She drunken herself into oblivion the previous night, anything to prevent herself from thinking to much. She looked at her phone and saw that it was Oliver calling her.

She pushed herself up from the couch, cringing as she did so, and bit her lip, holding the phone in her hand anxiously. Then, with sudden determination, she muted the volume and let it go on ringing. She didn't have the slightest idea how to deal with Oliver at that moment. All she wanted was aspirin.

Shortly after she'd managed to get her hands on some, her phone rang again. This time it was Dr. Hamilton.

"Hello?" she asked immediately.

"It's me. I need you to let me in."

"Of course. Just a moment."

She hung up quickly to disarm the security for him.

When he came up he gave her a questioning look. "You changed the password?"

She nodded. "Yesterday. Sorry. I'll e-mail you the new one. Just be sure t--"

"Delete the e-mail afterwards," he finished, smiling slightly. He looked her up and down. "Are you quite all right?" he asked, taking in her disheveled appearance.

Chloe's hand automatically flew to hair, trying to tame it, but it didn't make a difference when her face was pale, there were circles under her eyes, and her clothes were wrinkled beyond hope. "Sorry, I--it was a rough night."

"Well," he said, business seeping into his tone as he set his briefcase on her counter, "I came straight here. What's the emergency?"

"It's back," she whispered.

He raised a wary eyebrow. "With your history, you're going to have to be a lot more specific than that. _What_ is back?"

"My meteor power."

He was momentarily stunned. "How do you know?"

"Last night, I--there was a girl, and she was shot. I think someone stole her purse or something. I don't know but I touched her and all of a sudden it just..._happened._"

Emil thought carefully before speaking. "You said she was shot....just how badly w--"

"Right through the lung. She was bleeding to death."

"And you...oh God, I hope you didn't wake up in another morgue?" he said with sudden concern.

Chloe shook her head fervently and he raised an eyebrow at her. "I didn't die. As a matter of fact I healed almost instantly. I have no idea how."

He studied her calmly, the only sign he was shocked being his slightly lifted eyebrow. "I see. Well," he went for his briefcase, which always contained a few medical supplies. He withdrew a syringe. "I'll take a sample for you and see what I can find out. It shouldn't take long. I can call you within a couple of hours."

Chloe nodded as she pushed up her sleeve for him. He cleaned it with an alcohol pad before sticking her and drawing blood.

As he carefully stored four vials of her blood a few minutes later, he glanced up at her. "Like I said, a couple of hours. Why don't you have some coffee and take a shower in the mean time. No offense, but you wreak of alcohol."

Chloe nodded contritely. "Thank you."

He was on his way out the door when she stopped him.

"One more thing. Don't--" she breathed in heavily, "don't tell anyone about this. No one else knows."

He looked at her skeptically. "What about Oliver?"

She shook her head, though. "No one."

He looked as though he wanted to argue with her but seemed to think better of it. He shrugged and left.

Chloe sighed a breath of relief. At least now she could get some answers. She decided he was right and headed for the shower to help pass the time.

For an hour she stayed under the water, letting it beat down on her and scald her skin. Slowly the water grew cooler and she was forced to get out and face the sunlight streaming in through her stained glass windows. She noticed on her phone that Oliver had called again and left her a message.

"Hey, beautiful. It's me. Just wanted to say good morning. I guess you're probably working since I know you never sleep in. Call me back when you get a chance. Miss you."

Chloe sighed. She started to dial his number, but half way through she stopped herself and threw the phone away form her. She rubbed her temples. Part of her wanted to go for the bourbon again, but she resisted, knowing it was far to early to drink.

Instead she started brewing some coffee, eventually sitting down with a large mug of it, black and untainted, to wait for Emil's call.

At length it came, and she nearly spilled what was left of her coffee it made her jump so badly.

"Hello?" she asked, after scrambling for the phone.

"Hi, Chloe. Here's what I've got for you: You're definitely right. The meteor infection is back. The thing is that it's a higher concentration of Kryptonite than it was before."

"What does that mean? And how did it happen?"

"I would say it has to do with all the time you've been spending around kryptonite lately, but I don't think that's it. Now, I have a theory, but that's all it is."

"What's the theory?"

"The infection was never gone. It was dormant. I think your body had undergone so much stress when you were locked up in 33.1 and then for the next year that stress and anxiety only got worse. Stress seriously affects the way the body functions. It can be unpredictable. I think what's happened in your case is that the stress suppressed the mutation and as a result it has been altering, evolving even, to become stronger. There's only so many times you can die before it kills you--excuse the paradox--and the mutation doesn't want to kill you. It's worked with your body to make you stronger. After you went through all that stress, your body knew you couldn't handle the physical trauma, so the mutation went dormant until it could adapt."

"So what you're saying is--"

"You can't die...at least not from healing someone. An ordinary injury, on the other hand, seems to be an entirely different matter."

"How so?"

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but you were hung over this morning, weren't you?"

"Yes," she answered sheepishly.

"And further correct me if you don't have a small bruise on your arm from where I drew blood."

Chloe checked. Sure enough, a small blue mark was forming where the needle had pierced her skin. "I do."

She could almost hear him nodding as he responded. "As I suspected. For some reason, the mutation works only to heal wounds inflicted by healing someone. Outside of that, you're just as mortal as the rest of us."

Chloe was silent for a long time, registering this.

"Chloe? You should talk to Oliver about this. Or maybe Clark."

"I'll deal with that as I see fit. Thank you, Emil," she told him before hanging up.

She set the phone down and looked around her at the room she was in, a room where two men she had cared about had once killed each other. And she had watched them both die.

Why now? Why did it ever have to come back at all? To taunt her with the fact that she had been unable to save either of them?

Chloe dropped to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered to no one.

In Star City, Oliver glanced at his phone for the fifth time. Still no word from Chloe. It was odd, her not answering her phone. Stranger still, she hadn't called back in all this time. It was all very...un-Chloe-like.

With a sigh, he decided to call her a third time, leave another voice mail, and if he hadn't heard back from her in an hour, send someone to check that she was all right. It was difficult, with Chloe, to know whether he was being melodramatic or reasonable about her safety. Something just wasn't sitting right with him, though.

An hour and a half later, Bart was knocking on Chloe's door. Warily, she opened it.

"Hi, Bart," she said tiredly.

"Hey, 'licious," he said, sauntering in and examining her carefully. "You all right? Boss man says he's been trying to get a hold of you all day."

Chloe fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm--feeling a bit ill, actually. Slept through most of the morning," she lied.

She blinked and he was hugging her. "I'm sorry, mamacita. You need anything?"

Chloe shook her head, praying that he would leave soon.

"Sure?" he asked, pulling away. "I can get anything you want or need in a matter of seconds," he tempted her in a sing-song voice.

"I'm fine, Bart. I just need to sleep. Tell Oliver...tell him I'll call him tomorrow."

Bart nodded sympathetically. "Okay, 'licious. Whatever you say. But call me if you need anything, got it?"

Chloe nodded. "Got it. Thanks."

And Bart was gone.

"Great, now I'm lying to people?" she scolded herself. She couldn't explain why she hadn't told anyone. Maybe she just wanted to avoid all the panic and anxiety she'd have to endure on their faces. It was hard to think that twenty-four hours ago she'd been living a normal life.

"...well, relatively normal," she admitted bitterly as she checked the clock and saw that it was now noon. She brought out a bottle of beer from the fridge.

**Author's Comment: I have a question. I am trying to be as canon as possible about this, but I am having trouble with a particular detail: Was Lois ever aware of Chloe's meteor power?**

**Thanks for all the comments!**

**B.S.S.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Comment: Thanks for the help on the Lois question, everyone. Before anyone gets too excited, though, no, Lois is not appearing in this chapter. Soon, though. Soon.**

**BlueSuedeShoes**

--3--

"Chloe! Hey, Bart told me you were sick. How're you feeling?"

"F--fine," Chloe answered Oliver tentatively, searching once again for her bottle of aspirin. Her head was throbbing loudly and his voice in her ear was almost painful.

"You sure? Bart said you looked pretty worn out. Did you at least get a good night's sleep?"

"Just fine. Slept for hours." That much was true, anyway.

"Good. Listen, you hang in there. Go to bed; take care of yourself. I'll have someone bring over some soup around lunch time. I'll be home in a day and by then I expect you to be well and healthy and give me the enthusiastic greeting I'm dying for."

"Sure, Ollie. Okay." _Whatever you say. Please hang up now._

"You really are under the weather, aren't you, Sidekick?" he said, noting the blandness of her tone.

"You have no idea."

"Well, I won't keep you for long then, but like I said, I'll be home soon enough and until then you just take it easy. I forbid you to work. The world can take care of itself without Chloe Sullivan for a couple of days."

"I know. I won't work. Promise."

"See you soon, Chloe," Oliver promised in return.

"Bye, Ollie."

They hung up and Chloe sighed in relief. She had convinced herself that she was waiting to talk to Oliver when she could see him in person, but she knew the truth: she didn't know how to tell him, didn't have the slightest idea how to handle it, let alone how he or would take the news.

Clark would be somewhere between livid and horrified, that much was sure.

The League would be carefully indifferent, everyone secretly thinking it was cool, but not wanting to get on Clark's bad side for 'encouraging' her.

Lois...well Lois would panic.

But Oliver...how on earth would he take it? She couldn't begin to imagine his response. She only knew that he would be looking at her differently. They had reached a very precarious point in their relationship. They still hadn't given anything titles, but they both seemed to have formed a silent agreement that not only was it exclusive, they were both in it for the long haul.

Talk about throwing a wrench in the works. Once again she was a freak. Fantastic.

She shook her head and headed for the bedroom. She might not be sick, but she could definitely use the sleep.

And yet, just as her head was about to hit the pillow, her phone went off. It was Dr. Hamilton. Groaning, she groped at the nightstand and clutched it.

"Ungh."

"Hello to you, too, Miss Sullivan."

"Emil."

"I take it you're feeling under the weather."

"Something like that. What's up?"

"I've been doing some more tests."

"Oh?"

"I sort of made the assumption that you'd like me to find a cure if possible."

"You're a beautiful man, doctor."

"Don't compliment me, yet. I'm afraid I have bad news."

"You're a horrible, horrible man."

"I know. Here's the thing: I was hoping that perhaps the kryptonite could somehow be eradicated from your system."

"But?"

"And I _have_ successfully managed it."

"_But?"_

"But when I did, within a matter of seconds all the previously infected blood cells died off."

"WHAT?"

"Your body seems to have become dependent on the kryptonite in its system. Without it, you will die. Unless I can find some way to reverse the effects, which I promise I _am_ working on. Unfortunately, there's no guarantee I'll find anything."

Chloe sighed wearily, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. "I understand. Thanks for all your help, Emil."

"I'll keep working at it. I'll let you know the instant I find anything."

Chloe nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see her.

"Get some rest, Miss Sullivan."

"Thanks. Bye, doctor."

She shut the phone, this time actually turning it off so it couldn't disturb her again.

And she slept. For three hours she slept until Victor and AC showed up, bringing with them a batch of chicken soup that could feed ten.

Chloe eyed the cartons of soup warily. "You guys don't actually think I'm going to eat all of that, do you?"

They laughed. "Nah, we invited ourselves for lunch, thought you'd like the company," AC said, pulling bowls out of her cupboard while Victor rummaged for silverware.

"Thanks, guys," Chloe said with mixed feelings. Part of her wanted to be left alone. The other part was grateful for the company.

"Hey, anything for you, Chlo," Victor said cheerfully. "You're the one takin' care of us six ways to Sunday. Least we can do is look after you once in a while."

Chloe smiled weakly. For a moment she debated telling them what was really going on, but then she quickly dismissed the thought. Even if she were ready--which she wasn't--there were other people who should be told first.

As he was dishing out the soup, AC took in the state of her kitchen. He was surprised to find several empty beer bottles as well as an empty bottle of bourbon lying around. Had Chloe been drinking? He glanced at her then shook the thought away. Perhaps they were left over from her and Oliver before she'd gotten sick. She was undoubtedly too exhausted to clean in her current condition. Shaking his head in pity, he rinsed out the bottles and recycled them for her.

He was starting to question in his mind when she and Oliver would have had all of that when Chloe's phone went off.

He glanced at the screen and brought it over to her. "It's Dr. Hamilton," he said, the question obvious in his voice.

Chloe wanted the floor to swallow her as she answered it with Victor and AC watching. "Hello?"

"Hi, Chloe. It's me again."

"Hi, Emil. What can I do for you?"

"I'm going to need some more blood. Do you think you can come by my lab sometime today and give a proper amount?"

"I--I'm sure that will be fine," Chloe answered, all too aware of Victor and AC's presence.

"Great, when can you come?"

"Umm...late afternoon, maybe?"

"Four?"

"Sounds fine."

"Great. And Chloe?"

"Yes?"

"Do me a favor and don't drink anything between now and then."

Chloe's face turned red in humiliation. "No--no problem. Of course not."

"See you in a few hours."

"Sure. Bye, Emil."

She hung up and Victor pounced. "What's Hamilton after?"

"He just...wants my help with a few tests."

"Aw, Chlo," AC shook his head. "Why didn't you tell him you were sick? You're in no shape to be running around."

"You know, actually, I'm feeling a lot better today."

Victor rolled his eyes.

"No, really," she insisted. "I'm sure I look a lot worse than I feel. I'll get a good meal in me--" she glanced at the soup on the counter "--and take a shower and I'll be fresh as a daisy."

"Ollie gave us strict orders not to let you work, Chloe," Victor pointed out ruefully.

"Ollie's overprotective. I'm fine. I promise."

They both looked wary. "Well, at least let me give you a ride over there," Victor offered. "Maybe I can--"

"No!" Chloe said so quickly they both stared at her suspiciously. She blushed. "I mean, no, I don't want to put you guys out any more than I already have. I'm fine to drive. Really."

Victor raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Where's that soup?" Chloe questioned, steering the subject to safer grounds. "I'm starving."

"I'm telling you, boss, something's not right with her," AC said over the phone.

"Other than being sick?" Oliver rolled his eyes, barely listening as he poured over charts from Queen Industries.

"Yes. In fact, I'm not entirely sure she _is_ sick."

That caught Oliver's attention. "What do you mean?"

"I think she's not sleeping enough, and I think she's been drinking."

Oliver scoffed. "Chloe? She barely has one glass of wine at dinner on the average day."

AC shook his head. "You didn't happen to share a bottle of bourbon and several bottles of beer with her before you left for Star City, did you?"

"No."

"Well then, the empty bottles magically appeared sometime between now and then. I mentioned it to Bart and when he thought about it, he remembered smelling alcohol on her."

Oliver frowned, growing quiet.

"I think she's worried about something. Hamilton called her and she was really dodgy when we asked what it was about."

_Why wouldn't she tell me about it? _Oliver wondered.

"Do you want us to keep an eye on her?" AC asked significantly.

Oliver shook his head. "No, don't. If there's one thing that she'll hate, it's to find out that we're all conspiring against her or something. I'll be home tomorrow, and I can talk to her. Chloe can take care of herself until then. If she's keeping something from us, there has to be a good reason for it."

"Okay, but you better get here soon. I've never seen her like this. Her place is a mess and she looks pale as a sheet."

"I'll take care of it as soon as I can. Thanks, AC," Oliver said before hanging up. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. Chloe was hiding something? Why? It hadn't escaped his notice how evidently unhappy she was to talk to him earlier, but he had brushed it off as her being sick. Why else would she be so withdrawn? And what would drive her of all people to drink?

He shook his head. Perhaps there was another explanation. Knowing Chloe, something as simple as a few empty bottles could be part of something huge and convoluted, even alien-related.

...or it could be _exactly_ what it seemed.

No, there was no point in juumping to conclusions when it came to Chloe. not that that made him any less concerned.

With a weighty sigh, he comforted himself that he would see her in just over 24 hours, and he could confront her if necessary, or at least see for himself how she was doing.

"What's going on, Chloe?" he muttered wearily.

Chloe, in the meanwhile, was on her way back from Hamilton's. He'd kept her there longer than she thought was strictly necessary, forcing her to eat and frink in front of him. She hadn't given much blood, not enough to make her pass out, anyway, but he'd insisted regardless.

And, of course, he'd had to go into the whole messy subject of _why_ she wanted a cure.

"Honestly, now that we're sure it's not going to harm you, shouldn't we be embracing this?"

But Chloe had shaken her head. "It's too much. How am I supposed to control it? And how do we know it can't hurt me? You said my body's become dependent on kryptonite. What good could possibly come from that? How do we know it isn't slowly poisoning my system and my mind? For all we know, they'll be tossing me into Belle Reve three months form now! No, I don't want a trace of the stuff in me, so help me, God."

She'd looked at him with such wild determination that he hadn't had the nerve to argue.

She was driving to a bar. She wanted a drink and how. If she had to put a name on the emotion she was feeling, she'd probably have chosen anger, though for the lilfe of her, she couldn't say with whom or what. She simply _was_.

Then she saw him: a young boy--no more than nine or ten--riding his bike along the sidewalk. The wheel hit a crack in the sidewalk and he flipped forward. She swerved her car to avoid hitting him, but it did little to help. He hadn't been wearing a helmet, and she could see that he'd cracked his head hard on the pavement.

The brakes of her car screeched in protest as she pulled to the side of the road and got out to help him.

He was crying, and there was no doubt he'd need stitches.

_He might have a concussion or brain damage_, said a voice in her head. She knew what the voice wanted her to do, but she tried to ignore it.

"Are you all right?" she asked, not touching him. He could only cry, clutching his head.

Chloe bit her lip and closed her eyes. Then she glanced up. There was no one in sight.

_Oh, hell with it_, she thought, reaching out to touch his face gently.

The familiar rush of wind filled her body and she closed her eyes to the bright light emanating from the two of them. Pain shot through her head and just as quickly vanished.

And it was over, and the boy was looking up at her in shock. Silently, she stood up and looked away from him, heading for her car.

"Wait!" he called after her, but she didn't listen. She got in the car and started the engine and finished the drive to the bar.

She got there, walked up to the bar, and looked the barkeep dead in the eyes. "Dirty martini, and keep 'em coming."


	4. Chapter 4

--4--

Lois paced the floor anxiously. "Cuz? Would you pick up your phone? You're wearing me out with this not returning my calls business."

She hung up for the fifth time. Finding out from Oliver that her cousin was sick...there was something just plain wrong about that. _She _was supposed to be the one who gave the _boyfriend_ head's ups--well, _non_-boyfriend in this case, as Chloe was always insisting.

Chloe had been spending a lot of time at work and at Oliver's place lately, so they hadn't been seeing much of each other.

"But really!" she scoffed in frustration, "I have to find out you're sick secondhand, Chlo?" She assumed that Chloe had been sleeping all day, and that was the reason she wasn't taking calls. Still, she was about ready to drop in unannounced to check on her.

She rolled her eyes at the thought. Oliver had practically forbidden her to go 'bother' Chloe. "She's _my_ cousin," she grumbled, resigning herself to going to work for the moment. She could drop in on Chloe afterward.

* * *

"You know, lady, weren't you in here at two in the morning last night?"

"If I was?" Chloe raised an eyebrow at the bartender. She was swirling a glass of water dejectedly.

He shrugged. "Trouble on the home-front?"

She glanced up in surprise. "What makes you say that?"

He wiped a glass down and glanced at the empty room around them. With a sigh, he tossed the rag and leaned on the counter, giving her a shrewd look. "You were in here until I closed last night. It is now..." he glanced at his watch "two in the afternoon, and you're in here again. Although, at least you aren't drinking this time," he noted, nodding at the glass in her hand.

"Give it time," she smirked.

"You got an abusive boyfriend or something?" he asked.

Chloe looked at him sharply. "No."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Just making sure."

She looked at him thoughtfully. He was young, maybe her age, a year or two older perhaps. She liked the look of him. He seemed like exactly what you wanted the average Joe off the street to be: young, modestly good-looking, polite, unassuming. He probably led a completely average life with completely average friends and completely average troubles. She rested her chin on her hand as she surveyed him.

"What?" he asked.

"What would you have done if I said I had an abusive boyfriend?"

He glanced at the door and back at her. "Called the cops?" he suggested.

Chloe couldn't help it, she grinned at him. It was such a simple, ordinary solution to such a simple, ordinary problem. "You're a nice guy."

He looked unimpressed by the statement. "I guess. Theoretically there are a few of us out there." He gave her a half-hearted smile. She took another swig of water in response. "I'm Brent, by the way."

"Chloe," she responded.

"So is this about a guy, Chloe?"

She shook her head. "I wish." She paused, thinking of the fact that her fear of talking to Oliver and Clark was part of her problem, not to mention her incredible guilt over not being able to save Jimmy (even, if she were being honest, Davis, too). She sighed. "Then again, doesn't it always stem back to that one way or another?"

He smiled knowingly. "What's the trouble?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she sighed.

"Try me. I got all day," he said, gesturing the nearly empty room.

She shook her head. "I don't know. It's a convoluted story. Tell me something," she said instead.

"Anything you want, beautiful."

"Do you think God has a purpose for everything?"

He looked surprised. "I never thought too much about it. Don't go to church a lot."

"But you believe in God," she pressed.

He shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah."

"So do you think He does?"

He looked unsure of how to answer and Chloe gave up. "Never mind. Hey, make me one of those martinis like last night, would ya?"

He shook his head wearily, reaching for a glass. "Lady, whatever drives a girl like you to drink better be something else."

Chloe didn't answer, but glanced over her shoulder as a few people walked in. The place would start filling up soon. She was glad. The noise would be welcome.

* * *

Three hours later, Chloe was edging from buzzed to tipsy when she heard an extremely unwelcome voice.

"Well, well, well. Trouble in paradise? I certainly hope not."

"What in God's name are _you_ doing here?" Chloe said with contempt, spinning on her bar stool to look Tess Mercer in the eye.

"Shouldn't you be off playing house somewhere?"

"Shouldn't you be crawling through sewers to hide from Checkmate agents?"

Tess scoffed. "You think I don't know how to lay low?"

Chloe took another sip of her drink. "I think I see much too much of you for someone who should be making herself invisible."

Tess smirked. "Concerned? I'm touched."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Interesting how you make this about me, and yet, I'm not the one drowning in a shot glass."

"I wonder if its possible to drown in a shot glass worth of liquid..." Chloe giggled, looking at the empty glass she was toying with in her fingers. Then she looked sharply at Tess. "And if you haven't noticed, _you're_ here, too."

Tess smirked. "You think I'd be here if you weren't?"

The smile fell from Chloe's face. "What do you want with me?"

"I want to know why Dr. Emil Hamilton is doing blood work on you."

"You know, I used to want to be a reporter. That worked out beautifully. Maybe you'll have better luck getting what you want." She tried to rest her elbow on the bar, but it slipped.

Tess gave her a patronizing look. "You're a pathetic drunk."

Chloe scoffed. "You think _this_ is me drunk? Boy, you ain't seen _nothin'_ yet." She giggled, taking another shot.

"Duly noted. Why is Hamilton testing your blood?"

"How do you even know about that anyway?" Chloe looked at her, tilting her head a bit too much to the side.

"Hey, Chloe, you doin' all right?" It was the bartender, Brent, who was filling up her shot glass and eyeing Tess suspiciously.

"Oh, we're peachy," Chloe said sarcastically.

Brent chuckled at her. Then he glanced up at Tess and gave her a warning look. "You order a drink or you leave, lady."

Chloe smirked to herself. It was evident that Brent had noticed Tess wasn't a welcome addition to Chloe's party for one.

Tess eyed her for a moment before turning to leave. "I'll find out, Chloe. We both know I will," she called over her shoulder on her way out the door.

Chloe grimaced at her back. "I hate her," she told Brent.

"Who is she? The other woman?" he asked.

Chloe snorted. "She wishes."

He looked startled and then he laughed. "I gotta meet this boyfriend of yours sometime."

Chloe looked at him, grinning. "I like you," she said, tapping him on the nose.

He laughed. "Yeah, you're all right, too." He left her to tend another customer.

* * *

"Oliver!"

"Lois, you're going to deafen me one of these days. What is it?"

"I don't know where Chloe is."

"She not at home?" Oliver asked over the phone.

"No!" Lois said. "She's nowhere to be found."

Oliver grimaced. He was standing in Watchtower, wondering exactly the same thing as Lois. _Sick, my ass_, he thought. "Don't worry about it, Lois. I just got home. There's a voicemail on my machine from her. She's at Dinah's place."

"Who?"

"Friend of ours. Dinah must have invited her over."

"I thought she was sick. What's she doing leaving the house?"

Oliver cursed himself for mentioning to Lois that Chloe was sick. And now he was covering up for Chloe's lies to her. _This better be good, Sidekick_. He shook his head. "I think Dinah told me she was feeling a little better. I'm sure she's fine, Lois. I'll have her call you when I talk to her."

"You'd better!" Lois said. "And tell her that she is in huge trouble for keeping me so out of the loop. I haven't heard from her in days!"

"From what I understand, she's been sleeping a lot, Lo. But I'll tell her."

_Hell_, he thought,_ I'm going to be chewing her out for avoiding me, too....Soon as I find her, that is._

He checked his watch. It was eight o'clock. Where was she?

He'd sent Bart over to Watchtower with Victor: Victor to disarm the security which Chloe had apparently altered, Bart to scope out wherever she was and make sure it was all right.

"Dude, I found her, but you are _not_ going to like it," Bart said into the phone to Oliver.

"Where is she?" Oliver asked, jumping in his car and starting the ignition.

"Bar on 31st. And she seems pretty cozy with some bartender."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know. She's chatting him up or something."

"She's _not_ chatting anyone up," Oliver growled, punching the gas a little more vigorously than was strictly necessary.

* * *

**Author's Comment: Okay, about Tess, here's the thing: Part of the prompt was for her to kidnap Chloe because of her meteor power, but no matter how hard I tried to think of a way to make that work, I just couldn't make it sound rational in my mind. I even tried forcing Tess's way into this chapter to see if I could make it play out, but it just didn't. So, I was going to go back and cut the scene, seeing as it was now a hopeless plot interruption, but for some reason, I just didn't have the heart to do it. Anyway, forgive the pointlessness of the scene; no, it will not have any further effect on the story. It is now there simply because I feel like it.**

**BlueSuedeShoes**


	5. Chapter 5

--5--

Oliver propped himself in the doorway. He wasn't entirely sure he could believe what he was seeing, and he'd had to hang back for a moment to register the scenario.

He'd come bursting in the door preparing to tear some guy off of Chloe--or Chloe off of some guy if need be--but he'd stopped mid-jealous rage when he saw what was really going on.

He was going to clobber Bart later. Chloe was not flirting. He'd seen Chloe flirt. This was simply not it.

He could not say, however, that he had _ever_ seen Chloe drunk--a concern he would deal with later--but he didn't think he'd ever have pictured her being quite like this. Laughing outrageously and nearly falling off her barstool every five seconds, Chloe was ridiculously giddy. The bartender clearly liked her, which was hard to hold against him, seeing as it was difficult not to do. Most of the room seemed fond of her.

And then she glanced up and she saw him. It was as though the smile on her face couldn't possibly have existed because now there was no trace.

The bartender noticed, too. He followed her line of sight and his eyes landed on Oliver with suspicion.

Taking that as his cue, Oliver headed over to the now clearly distraught Chloe, trying to ignore the fact that it was his appearance that had initiated her dismay.

"You know, I pictured arriving home going a couple of different ways. Tracking you to a bar was not one of them."

"You want me to throw him out, Chloe?" the barkeep asked Chloe. Oliver could have throttled him, but Chloe shook her head fervently.

"He's just here to take me home," she said, not a little sadly.

He looked at Oliver for a minute, then shrugged. Chloe turned to pay her tab at the same time Oliver reached for his wallet, but Brent waved them both off. "On the house tonight, Chloe. No offense," he looked at her conspiratorially, "but I hope I never see you again."

Chloe grinned at him. "You're a beautifully normal person. Have I told you that?"

He laughed. "Several times now."

"Come on, Chloe," Oliver said, moving to help her from the stool. She flinched when he touched her and Oliver drew back quickly in concern. "Are you okay?"

She looked at him nervously, but nodded. "Sorry." She hiccuped.

Warily, Oliver tried again, and this time she seemed fine and allowed herself to be escorted toward the door. She stumbled several times and Oliver shook his head as he caught her.

"How much did you have, Sidekick?"

"A lot," Chloe said, drawing out the words carefully.

"Care to tell me why?" he asked, helping her into the car.

"Because when I wake up in the morning, I don't have to remember anything," she said glibly.

Oliver looked at her sharply. "Let's get you home, Chloe."

Chloe frowned at him. "Which one?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's the Talon with Lois. There's Watchtower. There's your place--although I guess I don't really live there, do I? No, I don't live there, I just live there. I should get my own toothbrush to keep there. That's what normal couples do, isn't it?" she asked him vaguely.

"Erm, I guess, maybe." Was that what all this was about? She was unsure of their relationship status?

There had to be more to it than that.

"How was your trip?" Chloe asked, carefully sounding out the words.

"It was fine. I missed you."

"That's nice."

"Did you miss me?"

"_No_,_"_ Chloe shook her head fervently. "I've been dreading you being back. But I'll never tell you that," Chloe added. "I don't want to hurt your feelings."

Oliver said nothing, but kept his eyes on the road.

* * *

Once again Chloe woke up with a hang over she was sure she'd earned, but this time her heart stopped for a moment when she opened her eyes.

She was in Oliver's apartment. _How did I get here?_ she wondered. The other night she knew she'd called a taxi to take her home but she couldn't imagine how she'd ended up at the Clocktower.

She moaned dramatically, rolling over to bury her face in the pillow. She sobbed dryly for a moment. It smelled like him.

"Call Lois," Oliver said, and Chloe jumped. Nervously she looked up to see him standing in the doorway, his expression empty. He looked indicatively at her cell phone on the bedside table.

Sheepishly, Chloe sat up and dialed Lois's number.

"Lo?"

"CHLOE! Thank God! Do you know I've been worried sick about you? Where have you been?"

"I--" Chloe hesitated, she was tired of lying about being sick. "I had to get out last night, Lois. I'm sorry I've been so difficult to reach."

"Get out where? I thought you were sick!"

"I did feel a bit ill the other day but I think that's been a bit exaggerated. I'm fine, Lois. Listen, I'm at Ollie's right now. Can I talk to you later?"

"Fine. Clark and I have a date tonight, but I'm kidnapping you the moment I get home, got it?"

Chloe sighed. "Sounds fine. We'll talk properly, then, okay?"

"Good."

"Bye, Lois. Sorry again."

"Yeah, yeah. Later."

She hung up and carefully avoided looking up at Oliver. Instead she played with the phone in her hands, staring determinedly at it.

"So," Oliver said. "Since when are you a bar fly?"

Chloe's face turned red. "You picked me up from the bar last night?"

"Yep."

"Did I call you?"

Oliver scoffed. "I wish."

"What happened?"

"Oh, nothing so terrible. You tripped a few times on the way out the door, but otherwise you're an adorable drunk." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "You looked pretty unhappy to see me, though. Any reason for that?"

Chloe said nothing. She was started when she felt the bed shift under Oliver's weight when he sat down next to her.

"It would appear we need to talk, Chloe. Anything you want to get off your chest now?"

Chloe still didn't say anything, although not because she didn't want to. Her throat burned and felt tight, indicating that the moment she tried to speak she was going to cry. She closed her eyes, wishing her head weren't making such painful protestations.

Oliver reached for a glass of water and a couple of painkillers she hadn't noticed beside the bed. "Here," he said, offering them to her.

Chloe opened her eyes and took the glass and pills, swallowing gratefully.

Oliver watched her and sighed. "Isn't this supposed to be my bit, Chloe? Hiding in the bottom of a glass of whiskey? That's not you."

""Bourbon, actually," Chloe joked weakly.

Oliver didn't laugh. "I don't now where to start with this, Chloe. We could talk about you lying to your friends and family about being sick. The fact that something's obviously got you shaken up pretty badly. How you've been avoiding everyone, particularly me. Or how about the fact that I've never seen anyone less happy to see me than you looked last night? Did I mention the fact that you flinched--_dramatically--_whenever I touched you? What's going on?"

Chloe drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly to her.

When she still hadn't said anything, Oliver voiced his most pressing concern. "Are we okay? Is this about something I've done?"

Chloe looked up at him for the first time. "You haven't done anything."

Oliver looked at her worriedly. "But we're not okay, are we?"

Chloe's eyes welled up. "I'm--" she hesitated, "I'm not sure."

"Chloe, what's happened since I left? Everything was okay a few days ago."

"What happened to your arm?" Chloe asked suddenly.

Oliver frowned, glancing down in the direction her eyes had taken. There was a two-day old gash in his bicep. Nothing serious, although it had certainly stung at the time. "Mugger," he answered simply. "Don't change the subj--"

But Chloe wasn't listening. Tentatively, she lifted her fingers to his arm to lightly trace the outline of the wound. Then, closing her eyes, she focused in her energy, bracing herself for his reaction.

Oliver's jaw fell slightly when it was over, and he stared at the newly healed skin on his arm. Slowly he lifted his eyes back to Chloe, who now had her face buried in her arms, having folded them over her knees.

"Chloe--" he tried to get her to lift her head.

"Don't. Please don't." She didn't want to look at him.

"Don't what? What exactly is it you think I''m going to do? Chloe, you should have called me."

"I'm sorry, Ollie," she said miserably. "I know. I just needed tot hink. I wasn't ready for everyone to look at me differently again. Plus Clark's going to have a temper tantrum," she added darkly.

"Clark's not going to have a tantrum. He's just going to be overbearingly protective," Oliver chuckled. "I understand the need to think, but I hardly consider going on a binge thinking. I'm kind of an expert on that particular brand of 'thinking.' It doesn't usually help. And as for--" he stopped, apparently irritated. "Would you mind looking at me?"

Chloe tilted her head upward just enough to peer up at him.

His lips twitched in response. "It'll have to do. Anyway, as for looking at you differently, I've got news, Sidekick: I've been looking at you differently for a couple of months now, and it's got nothing to do with your miraculous first aid abilities." He chuckled at her. He paused for a moment, then pushed himself off the bed. "I bet you want some coffee."

She watched his back as he left, guilt sinking into the pit of her stomach. Still exhausted, she got up to go after him.

He glanced up when he heard her footsteps, but said nothing.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "There's more. I can't die from healing someone. I talked to Emil. Apparently the mutation has evolved--to protect me fromt he side effects. Emil's working on a cure, but all we know for sure is that my body has actually become dependent on the kryptonite in my system. If we remove it, I'll die. At least so far that's all the information we've got. I found out it was back the day you left when I found a girl in an alley who'd been shot. Then later, I healed a little boy of a concussion her got falling off his bike. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to admit any of it out loud. It wasn't that I didn't trust you."

When she was finally finished, she opened her eyes. Oliver was closer than he'd been when she closed her eyes. He pulled her into a hug. "Have I mentioned how incredibly attractive you are to me when you're sober?" he joked.

Chloe returned the hug warmly. "I'm sorry, Oliver. I really am."

"Look, we'll keep talking to Emil, I'll make sure he has whatever he needs to figure this out, but...well, I have to ask it...you're saying it can't hurt you anymore, why is this so bad?"

Chloe had her face buried in his chest. In retrospect she should have called Oliver immediately. He would have dropped everything and flown in to see her instantly, and then she could have had the comforting smell of his cologne. _What was I thinking?_ she mocked herself internally. At his question, though, she pulled away slightly, studying the floor. "It's too much power for one person, Ollie. How do I decide when it is and isn't okay to save someone? And what am I supposed to do, sit around an emergency room all day? Besides," she added somberly, "in my experience, nothing good comes from having too much kryptonite in your system."

"All excellent points, and perfectly reasonable. Now how about the truth?"

Chloe looked up at him in surprise, and for a moment, she got lost in his brown eyes, so full of concern for her. She opened her mouth and then closed it before opening it again. "I'm scared."

He nodded.

"Growing up in Smallville, I met dozens, if not hundreds of people who had been infected with kryptonite. They were all certifiable. I don't want that to be me. The stuff does something to you. It's a poison, and not just to Clark."

Oliver tightened his hold on her. "It's going to be okay, Chloe." After a few moments he spoke up again, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. "Now, would you like to explain to me why Bart thought you were flirting with the bartender?"

Chloe looked up at him in surprise. "Brent?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Why does the bartender _have_ to have a name, may I ask?"

Chloe giggled. "Because he was really sweet."

"So you _were_ flirting with him."

"Who me? I can't imagine what you mean. Although he _did_ ask for my number," she lied.

"That's it," Oliver said, dropping his arms and grabbing his keys.

"What are you doing?" Chloe asked, amused. He was slipping on his jacket.

"Going down there to rip that cross-eyed nobody a new one."

"He wasn't cross-eyed. Actually he was kind of cute."

Oliver looked upward as though asking the Heavens what Chloe could be thinking. "He was hopelessly deformed. Now let go." She had wrapped her arms around his elbow and was clearly laughing at him.

"Ollie--"

"Get off, woman!" he said, trying to shake her free. She held on tighter.

"We both know I wouldn't _dream_ of looking at another man."

"Particularly Quasimoto the barkeep," he amended.

"Particularly _Brent_ the barkeep."

"I'm going down there," he threatened.

She rolled her eyes. "Particularly _Quasimoto_ the barkeep."

"Because clearly you have no use for him when you have a sex god like me."

"Oliver!" Chloe laughed.

"Say it," he shook his keys.

"Because clearly I have _no_ use for him when I have a sex god like you," she said sarcastically, "however arrogant, absurd, and full of it you may be."

"Yeah, yeah," Oliver said dismissively, tossing the keys back on the counter, "just as long as you acknowledge the sex god part. Now come here," he said, turning her so he could kiss her.

It wouldn't be until several hours later that it occurred to Chloe that she should have told Oliver that they had never--verbally--said they were exclusive, and she had a right to flirt with anyone she wanted. At the time it had seemed perfectly natural to try to appease him. Later she realized they were behaving more and more like a normal couple. Dangerously so.

Oliver didn't seem to mind.

Regardless, after Oliver appeared to be satisfied with his slightly delayed 'welcome home' kiss, the two of them had discussed further what needed to be done, including not only talking to Dr. Hamilton, but also talking to Lois.

Chloe, anxiously, had determined that she wanted Lois to know the truth. On her way to see her cousin that evening, though, she began to wonder how wise that decision was.


	6. Chapter 6

--6--

Chloe, anxiously, had determined that she wanted Lois to know the truth. On her way to see her cousin that evening, though, she began to wonder how wise that decision was.

When Chloe entered the Talon, she silently allowed Lois to chew her out for the last couple of days, knowing full well that she deserved it. In the back of her mind, though, she was beginning to wish she'd taken Oliver up on his offer to come with her for moral support.

When Lois finished her tirade, Chloe worked summoned up her courage. "Lois?"

"Yeah?"

"Erm...h--how was your date with Clark?" She sighed, maybe not quite _courage_ per se....

Lois rolled her eyes. "It was fine, but he seemed really distracted. I swear, every time a car alarm goes off I have to unscrew him from the ceiling," she smiled slightly, though, indicating that the tendency was strangely endearing, "Still, we had a good time. Tried out that new Thai place."

"Clark ate ethnic food?"

"Well," Lois smirked, "he made a valiant effort."

Chloe laughed nervously and then quickly forced herself back to the task at hand. Honesty. Honesty was good. "Lois? I need to talk to you. And it's important."

Lois glanced up from the bag of popcorn she was opening. "I figured. Does this mean I get to hear the truth about your little disappearing act this weekend?" She poured the popcorn into a bowl.

Chloe nodded sheepishly.

"Thank God," Lois said, sitting down on the sofa with the bowl of popcorn. she looked at her cousin expectantly.

Chloe took a deep breath. "I'mmeteorinfected."

Lois frowned. "Say again?"

Chloe sighed. "You know those green meteor rocks? The ones that have caused so many weird mutations?"

A strange look passed over Lois' face. "Yes."

"A few years ago I found out there was a lot of it in my blood. I've been infected."

Lois stared at her, then finally latched onto the first portion of the revelation. "A few _years_ ago?"

Chloe nodded contritely. "I'm sorry I never told you, Lo, but--"

"Why tell me now?"

"My mutation went away about two years ago. Three days ago, it came back"

"Your _what_ came back?"

"Mutation," Chloe reiterated calmly.

Lois had frozen, a piece of popcorn halfway to her mouth. Chloe wished she would put it down. She also wished she had a drink. Whiskey. Whiskey sounded _very_ good at that moment.

"Anyway, I sort of cut myself off the last couple of days from everyone and everything because I was freaking out. I _did_ go see a doctor, though. I promise. We're working on finding a cure."

"Rewind to the 'mutation' part. What exactly do you mean by that?"

Chloe closed her eyes. "The meteor rock in my blood stream has given me a healing power."

The piece of popcorn fell back in the bowl but Lois's hand remained suspended in mid-air. Thick silence filled the air for a solid sixty seconds before she finally managed speech. "W--wha--wait, what?"

"I can heal other people. Just by touching them."

"Like are we talking paper cuts or internal hemorrhaging?"

"Kinda both."

Her hand was still held up as though she were about to eat the no-longer present popcorn and Chloe thought she was going to tackle her if she didn't put it down. "So..." she said awkwardly instead.

"This is...really terrifying, really weird, and really cool all wrapped into one. How on earth did you sit on this secret all th--wait," Lois's eyes widened. "Clark knows, doesn't he?"

The guilty look on Chloe's face answered her question. She grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at her. "I can't believe you told Smallville before you told your favorite cousin!"

Chloe shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry?"

"You owe me so much chick time. And you're buying me coffee for a week--no, two!"

Chloe smiled weakly. Lois was taking this strangely well. "Fair enough."

Lois finally leaned back on the couch to survey Chloe. "So...what are you planning to do? I imagine you've already considered the scenario where you sit in MetGen all day long and heal people until you reach the point where you feel guilty for taking time off and then start blaming yourself for every person who dies everywhere and eventually some psycho, grieving homicidal maniac takes revenge on you for the loss of his high school sweetheart?"

Chloe nodded, eyebrow lifted.

"Glad we're past that idiocy. What's the plan then? I assume you have one?"

"The doctor I'm seeing, he specializes in these kind of things, and he's working on a cure so I can be normal again."

Lois frowned. "You sure? I mean, there's a lot of upsides to this you know?"

Chloe walked over to the liquor cabinet they kept and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, pouring herself a glass. She raised the bottle questioningly at Lois, who shook her head. She put the bottle back and raised the glass to her lips, knowing that somewhere in the world, Oliver was scolding her for it. She didn't care, though. The thirst had been itching at her since the drive over. It was just one glass, she told herself.

"Chloe?" Lois persisted after a moment.

"Sure there are upsides." She remembered the young teenage girl in the back alley and the little boy who had fallen from his bike. "But I wouldn't have the first clue how to balance it. You just said there was no point hanging around a hospital all day, but how do I draw the line?" She didn't want to get into the matter of the possible mental ramifications, of her mortal fear of being driven insane. "It's too much power for one person to handle."

Lois was silent a long time before finally nodding. "I guess that's true. Although if you ask me, what better person to bestow such power on than the person who recognizes that it's too much power for her?"

Chloe took another sip of whiskey rather than dignifying the comment with a response. Lois shrugged. "Well, anyway, who is this doctor you're seeing?"

"He works for Oliver. I've worked with him myself a couple of times and he's very trustworthy. If he can't find a cure, no one can."

Lois nodded. "All right. You think he can do it, though? I mean, haven't other people been searching for a cure before this?"

Lois had successfully voiced the one thing Chloe had been determined not to think of. "I guess we'll find out. Like I said, I have faith in this guy. He'll figure something out." Because he had to. He just had to.

"How is Ollie handling this?"

"Well enough. Surprisingly so, actually. I thought he might freak out, but he was upset more about my not telling him right away than he was about _what_ I had to tell him."

Lois narrowed her eyes. "He can join the club. What about Clark?"

Chloe's eyes darted away evasively. "I haven't told him yet. That my powers are back, I mean."

"Why not? You trusted him the first time around."

"Clark never took a particularly pleasant stance on my meteor powers. Although, actually, I suppose he'll be pleased that I'm being sensible this time and looking for a cure."

"What do you mean he took an unpleasant stance?"

"Clark didn't want me to use them at all. He said they could hurt me and I shouldn't risk it."

"How could they hurt you?" she asked sharply.

"Before--well, there's a sort of catch. When I healed someone before, I would take on their injury, including being dead a couple of times--" she conveniently left out that the first time happened because she saved _Lois_ "--and we were starting to get worried that sometime I might not wake up."

Several reactions seemed to pass over Lois's face at once. "Before?" she repeated finally.

"Well, it doesn't happen anymore. I mean, I still feel all the pain of the other person's injury, but it doesn't harm me anymore otherwise. No more reincarnations for me."

Lois was staring at her. "So you're telling me you came back from the dead once?"

"Multiple times, actually," she said, taking a long draught of whiskey at the thought and grimacing as it burnt down her throat.

"This is--this is--"

"Weird?" Chloe supplied sardonically.

"Something like that. I can't believe I didn't know about this," she shook her head.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you. Now that they're back I just decided you deserved the truth. I'm sorry, Lo," she added sincerely.

Lois got up from the couch and walked over to Chloe to hug her. "Hey, all I want is to be sure you're going to be okay. You know I love you, freaky mutations and all."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Comment: First of all, celebrate with me as I dance the end-of-finals dance and make a complete fool of myself.**

**Okay. Now that I've got that out of my system, I wanted to let you all know that at the request of the Chlollie (Prompt Provider) I am doing my best to work Tess back into the plot.**

**By the way, in case I failed to mention, I plan on providing the entire prompt at the end of the last chapter. I would have given it at the beginning, but I decided against the spoilers.**

**B.S.S.**

--7--

Oliver was doing target practice when the phone rang the next morning, so he put it on speaker.

"Oliver?"

"Um, hey, Lois. What's up?"

"Why is my cousin drinking?"

The arrow feel distinctly left of the mark. "What?" he asked darkly.

"Last night. She didn't have a lot. Two glasses, but she almost never drinks, and she didn't even look phased by what she had. When did this start?"

"Couple of days ago," he said through gritted teeth, abandoning his bow and lifting the phone from the hook to hear her better.

"Please tell me you're doing something about this."

"Working on it."

"Good. Is this all because of the meteor thing?"

"She told you, then? That's good. And yeah, that's why she started." He left out the fact that he thought they'd agreed she was going to go sober for a good month before she touched anything again.

"Yeah she told me. How long have you known about this, may I ask?"

He was glad she wasn't there to see the rueful expression that passed across his face. "Almost from the beginning, but I promise, she didn't tell me right away because I was all trustworthy or anything. It was purely because we work together and it was a liability that I needed to know about."

"My cousin having superhuman powers was a liability?" Lois deadpanned in return. Then she dismissed it. "Whatever, I'm not interested in why she told you. I just want to make sure she really is doing everything possible about this. Who's this doctor friend of yours?"

"His name is Hamilton, and he's the best in his field. Don't worry. I'm going with Chloe to see him tomorrow."

"Good."

"So where is our little candy-striper now?"

"She left for an early lunch with Clark. Says it's only a matter of time before he figures it out anyway, so she might as well have the big confrontation now."

Oliver chuckled. He'd love to be a fly on _that_ wall. "Great. She planning to stay with you or me tonight?"

Lois made a noncommittal sound. "She didn't mention, but she's mostly been staying at your place lately anyway. My money's on that."

"Thanks, Lois. And thanks for the head's up on the drinking."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't tell her I went all tattle-tale on her, okay?"

Oliver smirked. "Right. No problem."

* * *

"I'll double you whatever Queen is paying you."

"Miss Mercer, for the thousandth time, you cannot buy information on Chloe Sullivan off of me. I have loyalties. What is it that has you so interested in her anyway? I thought your chess club days were over."

Tess didn't dignify the comment with a response, but narrowed her eyes at Hamilton, turning on her heel to leave, deterred only for the moment.

* * *

Chloe drummed her fingers anxiously on Clark's desk at the Daily Planet. It was a bit odd, sitting in that desk, recalling that once upon a time the name plate had read her name.

She lifted the one that said Clark Kent on it and heaved a sigh as she looked at it. She would never regret the decision to become Watchtower full time. She knew that journalism was a thing of her past, but she still couldn't quite ignore the nostalgic voice somewhere inside of her who missed that world. She had liked being a reporter, even if her knew world was far more meaningful.

"Hey, Chloe," Clark's voice said, making her jump. "You're...early." He looked uncomfortable, and Chloe smiled almost inapparently, knowing he was undoubtedly very concerned about why on earth she would call him for lunch. She hadn't exactly been seeking his company out for several months.

_The door swings both ways, Kent,_ she thought with a grimace. She quickly replaced it with a warm, friendly smile. "Yeah, I know, I just didn't have anywhere better to be. Anyway, I'm sure you've gotten far too accustomed to Lois being late for everything. I'm not _that_ early."

Clark still wasn't quite returning her grin with equal warmth. "Is something going on? Why did you want to have lunch?"

Chloe could have tossed his name plate at his face. Knowing it wouldn't do any satisfying damage, she put it back down instead. "You know, the whole point of lunch was to discuss that then. If I told you now, what would be the point?"

Clark didn't look amused. "So you admit something's going on. It's Oliver, isn't it? What's he done?"

Chloe's temper flickered at the remark. "What makes you assume Oliver's done something wrong?"

Clark resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "This is Oliver Queen we're talking about. Your relationship with him is like a ticking time bomb."

She rose from the chair without noticing. "What on earth makes you say that? Oliver hasn't done anything wrong, you idiot!"

Unimpressed by the icy warning in her voice, Clark dug himself a deeper hole. "It's a perfectly logical assumption, Chloe. We both know what he's like?"

"What? Cold, distant, self-righteo--oh no, wait. That's you, isn't it?" Chloe fired back sarcastically.

Clark glowered. "That's hardly fair. We both know I have a lot to keep in balance."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. _I know_. If you ask me, Lois is lucky you make time for _her_."

Before she could make any further remarks on his relationship with Lois, Clark interrupted her. "Why don't you just tell me what's going on if it's not Oliver, Chloe?"

She sucked in a calming breath. "You know, I'm not sure why I even thought it was worth telling you," she said coldly, grabbing her purse to leave.

Chloe caught her arm but quickly released it at the look of daggers she shot him. "Look, Chloe, I'm sorry I shot accusations at Oliver. I'm glad he hasn't upset you. Would you please tell me what's going on, though?"

Chloe appraised him, weighing in her mind the reasons to tell him against the ones not to tell him. "I thought you should know that my meteor power came back with reinforcements a couple of days ago. You don't need to worry, though. I'm working with Hamilton on a cure." She turned to leave him standing in shock. "And don't you dare superspeed after me," she added under her breath, knowing he could hear it. She pulled out her phone.

"Ollie?" she asked feebly when he answered.

"Hey, Chloe, what's wrong?" Oliver asked, concern evident in his voice. "I thought you were with Clark."

"Lunch fell through. Come get me?" she pleaded.

"I'll be there in a minute. You okay with the bike?" he asked.

"Anything," Chloe conceded desperately. She didn't normally care for riding the motorcycle, but she'd take that over being stranded at the Planet any day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Comment: Well, here it is. I apologize for the wait. I know some of you have been growing impatient for the next installment, but unfortunately I have been busy packing moving and unpacking and chasing down my transcript from the far corners of the universe and you don't even want to know what else.**

**But, regardless, here we are:**

--8--

"What did he do?" Oliver demanded when he pulled the bike to a stop in front of Chloe.

She heaved an impatient sigh. "You know, it's funny: he asked the same thing about you."

Oliver looked surprised for a second before he grasped her meaning. He rolled his eyes and handed her a helmet. "Let's go."

"Gladly," Chloe said, climbing on behind him and wrapping her arms around him in relief.

Oliver determined that now was not the time to bring up her delve into the bottle of whiskey at her cousin's the night before. He figured he'd wait until they got back and she had a chance to cool off.

When they did get to Oliver's place, Chloe was still on edge, that much was evident.

"I'm sure you guys will work it out. Clark's nothing if he's not good at talking his way out of trouble," Oliver said, attempting to be supportive.

"I really hate this, you know," she bit out. "I do. I am sick and tired of how Clark--how he just--the way he--"

"Has his head shoved up his ass?" Oliver supplied lightheartedly, sitting down to let her fume.

"Exactly! I mean, when you look at the way he's been treating Lois lately, you'd think that he'd have the decency to realize that he has no right to throw accusations at _you_!"

"I thought Lois and Clark were doing fine," Oliver ventured, mildly confused.

"Oh please," Chloe scoffed, pacing the floor. "They're both in denial. Clark's been paying Lois less and less attention lately because he's so caught up in all things Kandorian, and Lois is definitely starting to notice. He's constantly spacing out on her, and the double life is definitely taking its toll. Besides, they're never going to have a real relationship if he can't just tell her--"

"Who I am?"

Chloe and Oliver jumped. Clark was frowning in the doorway.

"I told you not to come after me, Clark!" Chloe said irritably.

"Right, well," Oliver said awkwardly as the two stared each other down. "I'll just...go call the guy...because of the--" he looked between them and gave up. "Right. Later." He walked out of the room and shut the door smartly.

Clark and Chloe stared at each other awkwardly. After a few minutes it became evident that Chloe was refusing to speak first, arching her eyebrows daringly at Clark. He sighed.

"Look, Chloe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruffle--" her eyebrows, if possibly, rose even higher, and Clark cleared his throat, "--to--um--upset you. I shouldn't have just assumed that your relationship with Oliver was on the rocks. As for what's going on between me and Lois, I wish you'd let me deal with that as I see fit." He paused waiting for her response. At length, she nodded.

"Fair enough. Apology accepted."

"Thanks. So, about your meteor power being back," he spoke slowly, as though he were walking on thin ice, knowing that any moment he might say the wrong thing yet again, "you're working on a cure with Hamilton?"

Chloe nodded again. "Yeah. When it came back I freaked out and the first thing I did was call him." She chose the words carefully, knowing it would cause a small sting to Clark's ego that _he _wasn't the first person she called. "He's taken blood samples and Oliver and I are going to see him again tomorrow. Oliver wants to make sure I'm not lying about it," she said with a light scoff. She could tell that was what it was about, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with Oliver. In the reversed situation, she'd be doing the same thing.

"How did you find out it was back?"

"I healed a gunshot wound, which brings us to the next point of interest: healing people no longer incapacitates me."

"Does that mean--"

"It can't kill me anymore," Chloe finished for him. She was beginning to get very weary of this conversation. What was this...the fourth time she'd explained this? Well, technically, Emil had explained it _to_ her....

Clark looked confused. "But...I don't understand. How?"

With a deep sigh that she felt right down to her toes, Chloe explained the entire situation to him, everything Hamilton had told her, excluding one vital detail: the fact that her body had become dependent on Kryptonite. For some reason she couldn't verbalize, she just didn't want Clark to know that part.

When she was finished, Clark walked over and hugged her. "Chloe, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. Why didn't you just call me?"

Chloe tensed under his hug but eventually accepted it, trying to shove away her animosity for the man who was supposed to be her best friend. She couldn't stop the sarcastic remark that slipped past her lips, however. "Call you? Right. Because you give off such an air of welcome lately. All I want to do is spill my guts to you."

Clark let go of her and looked at her seriously. "I probably deserve that, but let's just establish something right now, Chloe: I don't care if we haven't spoken in months. I don't care if we've had the biggest blow out imaginable. I don't care if you start carrying Kryptonite in your purse to ward me off. When it comes to the big stuff, you can always come talk to me Chloe. I know I haven't been there for you lately, and maybe you're right about my needing to find a better balance in my life right now, but you should know that if you need me, I'll be there."

Chloe looked into his eyes, comforted by the fact that something in them reminded her of a Clark Kent she had known over a decade ago, and smiled slightly. "I know, Clark."

"Good. Now, I'm sorry to ditch you but I really have to get back to work before Lois calls in the National Guard. Let me know what Hamilton says tomorrow, okay?"

Chloe nodded her understanding, and before she could blink he was gone.

At which time, Oliver conveniently reappeared. Chloe turned to him with an amused expression on her face.

"Been listening at the key hole?"

Oliver scoffed. "Please, I am _so _above that. I was holding a glass to the door."

Chloe laughed.

"Well I guess you two are on slightly better terms now," he assessed and Chloe nodded in agreement. "That's good." He paused a moment, trying to determine whether this were the right time. "So I think we should talk about this drinking thing again."

Chloe rolled her eyes and walked over to his couch, hiding the blush on her face. She had just been wishing she had a drink. Dealing with Clark on a regular basis was enough to drive any decent girl to drink, she thought irritably.

Oliver debated telling her that he knew she'd been drinking at Lois's, but he realized there was no good way to tell her that without admitting that Lois had 'snitched' on her. "I'm just concerned that instead of talking to any of your friends or family you decided you'd rather have a glass of bourbon."

Chloe didn't say anything. She felt like a petulant teenager whose parent had caught her drinking underage.

"Chloe?"

"I'm an adult, Oliver. I can drink if I want to."

"Nobody said you couldn't. But that doesn't change the fact that you didn't think you could turn to any of us."

Chloe looked at him, recognizing the hurt in his voice even as he carefully disguised it. She knew him too well to be fooled by the macho facade anymore. "Oliver, I told you, it wasn't that I didn't trust you--"

"You just didn't want to admit what was happening," he finished impatiently, going over to lean against the back of the couch. "Chloe, that really bothers me. You _knew_ you could talk to us but chose not to anyway. What if my trip had lasted longer than a couple of days? Would you still be downing shots at the bar with Brian the bartender--"

"Brent," she corrected irrationally.

"--to keep you company?" he ignored her.

Chloe didn't answer right away. The fact of the matter was that she probably _would_ still be at that bar.

"You can't keep this up, Chloe."

"Keep what up?"

"This isolation thing."

"I'm not isolating myself," she argued.

"Yes, you are. You've been shutting yourself away from civilization little by little, and I didn't realize just how bad it had gotten until you went through a major personal crisis and didn't _tell anyone_."

Chloe bit her tongue, not sure how to respond. Her impulse was to deny it left and right, but she knew she couldn't. It was true. "What do you want me to say?" she asked finally.

"I want you to say you'll stop, that you're going to stop shutting people out. I want you to tell me you're going to stop keeping me at arms length."

After a long silence Chloe stood up and went for her keys. "I need to think." She was at the door before he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Where are you going?"

She tugged herself free and walked onto the lift. "Where do you think?" she asked with a mixture of defeat and defiance. The door closed in front of a stunned Oliver.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Comment: I'm sorry for how short this one is, but the next chapter is already in the works, so you won't have to wait long.**

**B.S.S.**

--9--

Chloe sat at the club's bar and stared into her glass, wishing it would magically cure her problems, knowing that it would only enhance them. Closing her eyes she pressed it to her lips and threw her head back.

She was far more surprised than she should have been when he appeared next to her several minutes later.

It had taken Oliver a good ten minutes to decide what he was going to do before he gave into the impulse to go after her, realizing that this was one of the few times in life when going with his impulse was the best thing to do. At first he assumed that Chloe would go to the same bar he had found her at before, but just to be sure, he resorted for the second time in a week to checking the tracking device in her phone. He was surprised when he realized she was heading for the Ace of Clubs instead. He got there and spotted her instantly at the bar.

Full of purpose he strode up to the bar, and, without looking at her, he ordered a double shot.

"What are you doing?" she asked after he downed it.

"Catching up. Every drink you have, I take a shot," he said, daring her.

She glared. "Oliver--"

"So what, it's all right for you to drink but not for anyone else? It's like you said: you're a grown woman. I figured what the hell? I'm a grown man."

Just to spite him, Chloe ordered another drink. Oliver followed suit.

Chloe knew she was playing a game she wouldn't win. Oliver had a much higher tolerance than her. And what was the point? She couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. Why didn't she just let him talk her out of it? Why couldn't she just trust him enough to take her home and take care of her?

The expression on Oliver's face was stony by the time he reached his fifth shot including the double. "Are we going to keep this up all night?" he asked heatedly.

"We're going to keep this up until you leave me alone," she told him, though she knew she couldn't back it up. She was already feeling more than a little tipsy.

"So, basically forever then?" he challenged, letting her know that it wasn't going to be that simple. He wasn't just going to walk out and leave her.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Why can't you just accept that I'm an ice cold bitch and I don't let people in anymore?"

Oliver hid his surprise at hearing her describe herself that way. He grabbed her arm and pulled her from the bar onto the dance floor and, more importantly, away from her drink. "Because you're not, Chloe," he said, taking her in his arms and dancing with her. Chloe had to lean heavily on him, unable to keep her balance enough to dance without his help. "We both know you're not. Sadly, that's what you _want_ to be, but the truth is by nature you want people in your life. Deep down you don't really want to be alone, you just wish you did. You wish it were that easy."

Chloe refused to respond.

"Chloe, why even keep me around then, huh? If you're so dead set on keeping everyone away, then why bother with any kind of relationship? That's what this is, Chloe," he added, anticipating her next argument. "It's a relationship and it was from the first second. You can pretend there are no strings attached all you want, but there are. As a matter of fact, I _let_ you believe there weren't up until now because I thought that was for the best. I was trying not to rush you, but obviously that was a mistake. The last thing you needed was someone willing to contribute to your madness. Consider this your official intervention."

"I'm just trying to protect myself!" Chloe bit back, aware somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind that if she were sober she wouldn't be admitting to this. "I'm fed up with being abandoned and taken for granted and turned on and hurt in every other way possible. I refuse to let that happen one more time!"

"I repeat: why keep me around then, Chloe?"

After several false starts, Chloe stopped herself from speaking at all, knowing she didn't have a real response for that.

Always knowing when he had the upper hand, Oliver pressed on, hoping to get a rise out of her. "So what are we doing, then? Scratching an itch? Funny, I never took you for the type of girl who would let anyone in bed with her to get her fix. So if it hadn't been me, who would it have been, I wonder? Someone else on the team, maybe? I bet--"

"Shut up!" Chloe tried to pull away from him but he held her fast.

"What? Is that not what's going on? Because I can't imagine why it would offend you otherwise."

"Stop it. Please, just--" she struggled against him futilely. He was stronger even when she wasn't tipsy. She was starting to feel like crying.

"Just what? Just let you go? I've got news for you. I'm not leaving here without you, so you can ignore me and argue with me and try to get away from me all you want. I'm still going home with you."

"Leave me alone, Ollie," she pleaded with him. All she wanted was to go bury her head in the sand. She didn't want to face up to the fact that something was going on with her and Oliver beyond casual fun. She should have known that 'casual' anything would only lead to casual_ties_.

"No," he responded simply.

"I'm not going to change."

"Yes, you are. Even if I have to make you."

"Why go to the trou--" Chloe swallowed her words at the expression on his face, daring her to finish the sentence. Then she summoned up her nerve. "Why go to the trouble?" she demanded.

In response, Oliver's lips crashed down on hers. Their bodies stilled and Chloe's nearly collapsed under his intensity. She thought her knees would give way as his tongue forced past her lips and, and then, suddenly, she realized that they _had_ given way, and his arms around her were all that was holding her up. She could taste the alcohol on his breath, yet she knew _he_ was completely in control, though she wasn't sure she could say the same for herself on any count. Finally, with deliberate slowness, Oliver broke the contact, still keeping his face a fraction away from hers. "That's why."

Chloe couldn't say anything. She was focusing everything in her on breathing steadily, and she wasn't necessarily succeeding, either.

"Come on, Chloe. You know. I'd say 'deep down,' but the truth is it isn't even subconscious knowledge. You know how I feel. You've been choosing to ignore it. More importantly, you know how _you_ feel; you're just in denial."

When she still didn't respond he left her to pay their tabs. He returned and told her shortly, "We're leaving. You should get some sleep before we see Emil tomorrow." He took her hand and led her out the door where he hailed a taxi.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Comment: Whoops, sorry folks, looks like I accidentally loaded the wrong document. Here you are:**

--10--

When Oliver woke up the next morning, he shouldn't have been surprised that she was missing.

_Even after they reached his apartment, Chloe still hadn't spoken a word to him. He didn't look at her, just fixed her a large glass of water, shoved it in her hand, and ordered her to drink it. Somewhere between chasing after her and kissing her at the club, he had drifted into a dangerous mood. There was something about seeing Chloe choosing to shut everyone out that ignited fury in him. Maybe it was the frustration of knowing that she was voluntarily making the same mistake he had. He was determined not to let her do it. He didn't care what he had to say or do, he wasn't going to let her push him away._

_She drank the water grudgingly, and he watched, arms crossed, as she did so. When the glass was empty she walked over and dropped the glass in the sink, probably hoping it would shatter. All it did, though, was make a loud clatter that echoed in both their ears. Then, slowly she turned to face him, eyes locking rebelliously on his._

_He started to say something, although he wasn't sure what he _could_ say, but she brushed past him, slamming the door of his room shut behind her. He heard the lock click._

_Anger rising, he considered forcing his way in after her and making her talk to him, but he restrained himself, kicking off his shoes instead and heading for the couch._

So really, as he surveyed his now vacant room, he knew he should have been expecting to find it that way. She could have snuck out, or, if she'd been really determined not to wake him, she might even have gone so far as to call Clark or Bart (though he doubted it). Regardless, she was gone, and he should have known she would be. Chloe didn't like being cornered, and that was exactly what he'd done.

Granted, it was exactly what she'd needed, and he do it over again if he had the chance...maybe minus the shots, but still.

She'd asked him why he was going to the trouble, and he couldn't help but laugh bitterly at the irony of the statement. Even if he hadn't fallen for her, he'd still be doing it. Why? Because she'd done it for him. She'd dragged him from the gutter and he hadn't gone willingly. As a matter of fact, he'd fought her tooth and nail the whole way. She'd stuck to her guns, though, and now he was going to stick to his.

He checked his watch and started pulling on fresh clothes. He needed to be at Emil's in an hour.

* * *

Chloe took an agitated sip of coffee, cringing as an unseemly cheerful bell clanged over the door of the cafe. Somewhere else in the room a man stood and his chair made a horrible scraping sound across the red stone floor. The bleached blonde waitress who had taken her order came over and curtly asked if she needed anything. Chloe shook her head. The waitress left and Chloe lifted the garish yellow cup back to her lips, drinking deeply this time, allowing the liquid to scorch her tongue and throat.

She was ashamed of herself, thoroughly ashamed. First because she'd allowed things to go so far that she'd gotten smashed again the previous night, but second because she was a coward. Everything Oliver had said to her was true. She was just such a coward that she'd refused to acknowledge it.

She sighed miserably. It shouldn't be so difficult. He loves her. She loves him. God knows she does. So why did she have to keep running scared from something that felt so right?

"Because I'm a coward," she muttered in a deprecating tone.

* * *

"Where's Chloe?" Emil asked, his tone slightly confused.

Oliver grimaced. "I don't know if she's going to be here. I upset her last night and I'm not entirely sure where she is right now."

Emil raised a cautious eyebrow. "I'm not sure if it's the best idea to not know where she is."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been having some words with Tess Mercer. She's fixated on this business with Chloe. She doesn't know what's going on," he added quickly, seeing the expression on Oliver's face, "but she knows I've been taking samples of Chloe's blood. Turns out she'd had my place bugged. I'm sorry."

Oliver brushed off the breach, not having enough energy to get properly angry about it. "I'm going to have your security updated," Oliver told him firmly. Emil nodded.

"Sounds good to me."

"Are you sure all the bugs have been removed?"

"Positive."

"Good. Now what's going on with Chloe?"

"I think I may have figured out a way to rid her of the meteor infection. The thing is, I can't be entirely sure it will work."

"What's the idea?"

"It would be a slow, multi-stage process. I realized that the green meteor rock cancel out red, so why not the other way around? I'm working on a concentrated serum of red kryptonite that should help me eradicate the green her blood over time. Theoretically, if I remove it all slowly instead of all at once, it won't kill her. It will be more like detoxing. Unfortunately, it's risky. Anything with kryptonite is, and right now I haven't been able to create a serum that doesn't have serious side effects."

"What are the side effects?"

"The usual with red kryptonite: totally erased inhibitions. Heightened hormones. Impaired judgment."

"And how long do you think it will take to fix it?"

He shrugged. "A day? Weeks? There's no way of knowing. All I can tell you is that I'll keep you posted on the process as I go, and I'll let you know when I'm getting close."

Oliver nodded. "There's a reason I pay you so well," he smirked humorously. "Thanks for working so hard on this."

Emil brushed off the compliment. "It's my job, and I think both of us would do a lot more for Miss Sullivan." He glanced sharply at Oliver, possibly indicating that it was idiotic to be upsetting her at a time like this. Oliver got his meaning, but didn't respond to it.

"I'd better go find her and talk to her," he said at length. Emil nodded.

"Good."

* * *

"Chloe," said a cold voice, and Chloe's impulse was to begin repeatedly smacking her head on the table.

She looked up. "God, you have this amazing ability to find me at exactly the times when I'd least like to see you."

Tess smirked. "I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience, but we need to talk."

"Are you finally going to get therapy? Because I want you to know I support that decision one hundred percent." Chloe sipped the remaining dregs of her coffee and indicated for Tess to sit.

"I need you to tell me what it is you're doing with Hamilton."

Chloe pushed back the slight guilt over the fact that she was currently blowing Hamilton off, and narrowed her eyes at Tess. "You are _such _a broken record. Haven't we already had this conversation?"

Something in Tess's face was different, though. Chloe cocked an eyebrow.

"What?"

Tess's eyes darted for the door and then scanned the room. "The two of you are in serious danger."

Chloe noticed the way Tess's lips barely moved. "Are we being watched?"

"I might be. You--well, I think it's pretty safe to assume that someone's always got an eye on you. How else would they have found out about Hamilton?"

Chloe stared at her, trying to register what was happening. "Wait...are you _warning_ me?"

Tess nodded, looking as though she'd taken a bite of something particularly sour.

"Don't be so noble," Chloe rolled her eyes, but then sobered. "Why in God's name are you warning me?"

Tess shifted, not making eye contact. "I owe you."

Chloe coughed. _"What?"_

"I unintentionally got you kidnapped by Checkmate, I burned your little tower to the ground--"

"After you intentionally broke into it," Chloe pointed out sourly.

"To erase selected files, not destroy the whole place," she paused. "And you didn't kill me even though you had the chance."

Chloe found herself speechless. After several false starts, she managed, "So?"

Tess frowned.

"Well, you'll excuse me if you've never exactly cared what happened to me before this." Then something dawned on her. "This is about Oliver, not me."

The telltale way Tess's eyes darted away spoke volumes. She couldn't explain what had happened between her and Oliver after she'd managed to get Chloe kidnapped. She couldn't swallow her pride enough for that. "Does it matter why I'm doing it? Accept my help or don't."

Chloe studied the woman across from her for a long time, weighing her options. Finally, she spoke. "Tell me what you know."

"They know you're working on something with Hamilton. They've figured out that he's privy to a lot of information, and they think he might be a weak spot. They bugged his place and they're hoping to use him to get to you. What they don't know is why he's taking samples of your blood."

"And how do _you_ know all of this?" Chloe said, silently trying to squelch her panic at the knowledge that Emil's lab had been tapped. What had she said while she was there? Had she given anything vital away?

"Attempting to hide from Checkmate means that I'm being forced to keep my ear to the ground. In order to stay out of their way means that I have to know where they are at all times."

It made sense, and in spite of her immense distrust for all things Tess Mercer, Chloe knew she had to buy into the story. "We need to get out of here," she said abruptly, rising.

"Where are we going?" Tess looked startled.

"I'll tell you on the way," Chloe said.

* * *

**Author's Comment: Tess. Right. Her. I'm sorry, I just don't view her as full out villain, and like I said, I just couldn't rationalize her **_**kidnapping**_** Chloe, like the prompt asked, so I'm taking her in another direction. I have to admit, she's a fun character to write. Lots of inner turmoil.**


	11. Chapter 11

--11--

"Chloe, please call me back. We need to talk." Oliver hung up his phone for the third time since leaving Emil's. He was getting extremely close to resorting to tracking her again, but he was starting to feel guilty about taking advantage of that so often. Showing up when she was avoiding him wasn't exactly the reason they'd set up those lo-jacks, and he knew Chloe would start resenting it if he abused it too much.

Still, if she didn't call back soon, at least this time it was a matter of safety.

* * *

"What are we doing here?" Tess asked. "I told you this place is bugged," she muttered under her breath.

"Wow," Chloe said, rolling her eyes, "you even sound condescending when you whisper. That's impressive."

"And you're even sarcastic when you're being an idiot. That's annoying."

Chloe smirked. "I need to see--Emil! Hi."

Emil looked up from his clipboard and blinked at the two women, clearly not expecting to see the anyone at all when he walked back into his lab. He registered that Tess was there, and looked ready to set off an alarm before Chloe stopped him.

"She's with me, Emil."

"She had this entire place wired. Do you know how long it took me to get rid of all the taps?" he demanded of Tess, clearly irritated.

"It wasn't her," Chloe interrupted before Tess could say anything to irk him further. "It was Checkmate."

"Who told you that?"

"She did," Chloe admitted.

"And you believe her?"

Chloe looked at the redhead a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Although it's killing my pride, quite frankly."

Tess rolled her eyes.

"Have you spoken to Oliver?" Emil asked Chloe.

Chloe shook her head.

"You should. He was here this morning when you were _supposed _to be--" Chloe's eyes darted away guiltily "--and he's looking for you."

"I'll talk to him later. Right now what I need to know is whether or not you've got a cure for me. The sooner I'm rid of this, the sooner we're both off Checkmate's radar."

Tess looked confused. "First, _you_," she looked at Chloe, "will probably never be off Checkmate's radar until you die. Second, what the hell are you talking about? Cure for what? What's wrong with you?"

Emil looked to Chloe, indicating that he personally wasn't going to tell Tess anything. It was her choice.

"I'm meteor infected."

"_What?"_

"You know, I get so tired of telling people this. Nobody ever just smiles and says 'That's nice,' " she huffed.

"Rewind, princess. What can you do?"

Chloe opened her mouth, about to answer, but then stopped herself. "It's not important what I can do. What's important is that Emil here is going to give me a cure. And _you_ are going to 'accidentally' leak to Checkmate that I've lost my power."

Tess looked at the ceiling for help. "_That's_ your brilliant plan?"

"You got anything better?" Chloe narrowed her eyes. Truthfully, there was more to her plan than that, but there was only so much she was going to tell Tess Mercer.

Tess shook her head. "I'm sure I could think of about half a dozen plans that are better than that, but it would help to know what your power is first and then why you're so eager to be rid of it." She arched her brow expectantly.

"Uh uh. Need to know basis." She was purposefully keeping Tess out of that loop for one reason: If Checkmate knew what it was, Tess would undoubtedly find out from them. If they didn't, than neither of them would know, and that was just the way Chloe preferred it. She was hoping that by getting Tess to leak them a little information, she might eventually be able to get Tess to do the same for the JL. Having a fly on the wall at Checkmate's headquarters was an asset they couldn't pass up.

Emil chose this moment to voice a rather imminent concern. "Chloe, the cure isn't exactly up to par yet."

* * *

"Have you seen Chloe today?"

Oliver fought down an impulse to roll his eyes. "No, why?"

"Lois hasn't heard from her all day, and she said the last time that happened, Chloe was running around hiding--and I quote--'the world's juiciest secret' from her. I'm a little worried myself. Chloe hasn't been herself the last couple of days."

"That's for sure," Oliver grumbled. Just as he was wondering how to explain to Clark--who kid snap Oliver's spinal cord like a pretzel if he so chose--that he had successfully scared Chloe off in her time of need, his phone rang.

Relief washed over him when he saw Chloe's name on the screen. He showed it to Clark before answering. "Chloe? Hey, listen--"

"Not the time. We can talk later. Right now I want you to get someone over here to look after Emil."

"What? Why?"

"Checkmate's been having him watched, and I'm concerned that they might try to abduct him or something."

"I thought Tess Mercer was having him watched."

"Tess is here with me." Chloe's voice sounded exasperated.

"Beg pardon?" Oliver asked flatly.

"She's with me. I'll talk to you about that later. For right now, could you pleas just--" she stopped, and Oliver heard some sort of alarm going off in the background, followed by the voice of the one and only Tess Mercer:

"_Please someone tell me that just means the smoke detector is on the fritz."_

Followed by Dr. Hamilton:

"_I really don't think so."_

"Chloe?" Oliver asked anxiously. "What's going on?"

"I'm not--" her voice cut off.

"Chloe?" Nothing. _"Chloe!"_ Dial tone.

He looked up to Clark, whose face went from worry to grim determination in a matter of seconds. "Where are they?"

**Author's Comment: Another short chapter, but you were all so patient over the weekend, I wanted to get this out as quickly as possible.**

**B.S.S.**


	12. Chapter 12

--12--

Tess swore. Red lights were flashing and sirens were blaring, notifying them that someone had breached security. "We need to get out of here. Now!"

"We can't just leave Emil's research here! They'll put everything together. They _can't_ know about me!"

"What the hell are they doing here?" Tess asked, scrambling with Emil to grab files and vials of red serum.

"I must have missed a bug somewhere. Would _you_ pass up the opportunity of having the three of us in one room?" Emil asked, eyebrows up.

Tess muttered darkly under her breath, jumping when she heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairwell outside.

"Chloe, you need to get out of here. There's a window through that door," he nodded before rushing back to his computer to start an emergency shut down.

Chloe bit her lip, making a quick decision. Tess glanced over her shoulder and saw that Chloe was still standing there. "What are you waiting for? _Go!"_

Thinking Chloe was an idiot, Tess spotted a box in a corner of the room. Dumping its contents, she started throwing the files into it. Someone started beating at the door.

Making her decision, Chloe grabbed a couple of vials of serum and a syringe before sprinting for the door Emil had directed her to. Inside, she spotted the window he was talking about. Wondering if she would even fit through it, she grabbed a couple of crates and started stacking them, heart thudding wildly in her chest.

She jumped as she heard the Checkmate minions enter the room outside. Cursing, she moved more quickly, meaning that she only got more clumsy. Then she heard Tess's surprised voice, "Clark?"

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief too soon. Just as she was thanking God for the Blur, two men must have gotten past him to burst into the small storage room she was in. Buying herself time, she roundhouse kicked one of them into the other. As they were disentangling themselves from each other, she took the syringe and plunged it into the first, the second, and then the third vial. Jabbing her arm with three doses at once, Chloe suddenly felt dizzy, a feeling which was almost instantly replaced with an adrenaline rush the likes of which she had never felt.

A third man joined her first two, and she found herself smirking at the challenge. Abandoning her escape plan, she jauntily jumped down from the boxes she'd been climbing and took a fighting stance. Cocking her head to the side she raised a hand and beckoned the men forward.

Glancing at one another warily, the three of them simultaneously lunged at her. With a thrill of excitement, Chloe fought them tooth and nail.

Unfortunately, while she _might _have been able to take two of them, three was a bit ambitious, and when they were joined by a fourth, Chloe suddenly found herself struggling desperately to break free of them. A scream of frustration ripped from her throat at being restrained, and Clark looked up in time from saving Emil to see her predicament. Rushing to her side to knock them out, Clark was startled when Chloe started to head deeper into the fray. He gripped her shoulder and wrenched her back.

"Chloe, _get out of here_," he commanded. Rolling her eyes, Chloe headed back to the stack of boxes while Clark went to the aid of Tess, who was currently giving two men a serious run for their money.

Chloe was halfway out the window when someone grabbed her ankle. Kicking wildly, Chloe tried to throw him off as he yanked her back down. He was wearing kryptonite knuckles.

"Get off!" she shouted irritably, only to be ripped from the tower of boxes unceremoniously. Angrily she wiped blood from her lip before pulling her fist back and letting it fly at the man's face with all the force she could muster. "Let go!" she yelled when he still wouldn't release her.

Clark heard her that time, unfortunately, and before Chloe could warn him off, he entered the room, only to collapse to the floor the moment he felt the green kryptonite's effect.

"Clark!" she yelled angrily, turning to spit in her assailant's eye. Her satisfaction was fleeting, however, when he directed a harsh back-handed slap across her face. He was too strong for her and she couldn't break his grip. Just as she was frustratedly thinking she should have thrown herself out the window when she had the chance, she heard a soft whistling sound pierce the air, and the man's face went slack. He fell on top of her and she saw a small green dart sticking out of his shoulder. "About time," she grinned, looking up to see the Green Arrow directing another dart in the direction of the door. She looked around the room. Before Clark passed out, it looked like he managed to take out just about all of them, leaving only the two the Green Arrow had just taken out.

"Oh right, Clark," she muttered casually, glancing at her now helpless best friend as she suddenly remembered him. She bent over and slipped the kryptonite knuckles off of the unconscious heap before her. Pleased with herself, she climbed to the window and hurled the knuckles out. Shutting the window, she sat down to watch Clark come back to life.

He stood almost instantly.

"You should get Emil and Tess and all the research out of here before Checkmate sends any more of these guys," she told him matter-of-factly.

Clark, frowning deeply, looked as though he were about to ask her something, but he shook his head, apparently deciding she was right. Leaving her, he went to Tess, carelessly tossing an unconscious man from atop of her. Gratefully, Tess stood, grabbing her box of files, and allowed Clark to carry her to safety.

Oliver watched them go before turning to Chloe, throwing his hood down. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern in his voice. Behind his glasses, his eyes took in her bloody cheek, where the false knuckles had made contact.

She smirked at him from her precarious perch atop the boxes. "What? No voice distorter? Have I ever told you how sexy that thing is?"

Oliver's eyebrow shot up. "Chloe?" he asked slowly.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy."

Hamilton had reached his side. His eyes took in the empty vials and syringe on the floor. "Oh God," he groaned, looking up at her in panic. "Chloe, what did you do?"

"About what?" she asked cheerily.

"The serum."

"Oh that," she frowned. "I figured I'd take my chances with the side effects. If they captured me, I didn't want them to be able to make me use my powers."

Emil faltered and Oliver looked at him anxiously. "But...but that's okay, isn't it? One dose isn't a big deal and the side effects should wear off, right? We just need to keep an eye on her until they do, right?"

Emil nodded slowly. "I'm not sure how long they'll last, but--" he swallowed, "but how much did you take, Chloe?"

"Three doses. You said that was how much it takes to clear out _all_ the green crud, right?" She looked ridiculously pleased with herself.

Emil groaned and Oliver swore.

"Shouldn't that have killed her?" Oliver demanded, wide-eyed with panic.

"It might, yet," Emil said nervously.

"Don't worry. I bet when that guy slapped me with his kryptonite brass, it bought me some extra time. It _did_ break skin," Chloe said in a manner of commenting on the weather before shooting a dirty look at the offending man.

"What's going on?" Emil and Oliver jumped and Chloe giggled pleasantly, amused at seeing them startled.

"How long have you been standing there?" Oliver asked Clark irritably.

"Since I said the word peachy," Chloe supplied from behind them. All three men shot her a nervous look.

"Chloe's system is about to go into complete meltdown because she took three times the amount of red K she was supposed to and now there's no green K in her system," Oliver said angrily, trying to keep the volume of his voice under control.

Clark looked from Oliver to Emil. "SHE WHAT?" The mention of red kryptonite alone was enough to send him through the roof, but Oliver had just said something about Chloe being unable to function without _green_ kryptonite. Emil set into trying to explain how Chloe's system had become dependent on meteor rock, and how the cure he had concocted worked.

"Did you know it's kind of dizzy up here?" Chloe asked suddenly, interrupting them. Three heads snapped in her direction. She swayed for a moment before passing out, tumbling from the crates, only to be caught by a quick-responding Clark.

"What do we do?" he asked Emil, fear in his eyes as he held her like a bird with a broken wing.


	13. Chapter 13

--13--

"Well first of all, we've got to get her out of here before anyone else shows up. Clark, can you find any more bugs in the room?"

Clark scanned everything with what Chloe liked to call his "thousand-yard-stare" before pausing at a security camera in the corner. In a blink he crushed the camera before returning to their sides.

Emil muttered under his breath about never having thought of that, before speaking up again. "I've got a friend with a private practice. He'll let me commandeer one of his offices if I explain the situation's an emergency."

"Shouldn't we take her to a hospital?" Clark asked.

"Too many eyes," he shook his head.

"Where is it, then?" Clark asked.

Hours later, Oliver was sitting at Chloe's side inside a small check-up room. He was holding Chloe's hand, staring at her as though it would make her wake up. The good news was that her heart and other vitals were fine, she just didn't seem to want to animate.

Clark was pacing stormily outside the room. After dropping Tess off, he had taken Emil's files from her and temporarily stored them at the Kent farm. After coming back for Chloe and the others, his only distraction had been to gather up the rest of Emil's research and similarly dispose of it. Now, however, he was left with nothing to do, and he couldn't intrude on Oliver to wait with him. Frustratedly, he asked for the third or fourth time, "Why didn't she tell me how serious this was?"

"I'm sure she didn't want to worry you. Has anyone called Lois?" Hamilton asked, deciding the only way _he_ would be able to focus was to find Clark something to do.

Clark's eyes darted away evasively.

Hamilton nodded. "Why don't you do that? She's probably wondering what's going on, and you need to come up with an explanation. Telling her that her cousin was attacked by a secret government organization--_again_--might be a bit much for her."

Clark nodded before vanishing, and Hamilton returned to his microscope, where he was studying the effect of the red kryptonite on a sample of Chloe's blood. It hadn't bonded like the green variety had, thankfully. He added a miniscule amount of green and watched as the red disappeared and the blood cells readily accepted the green like before.

He shook his head. Talk about backward progress.

Chloe's eyes opened slowly, blinking rapidly in confusion. Where was she? For a moment she couldn't remember anything beyond the alarm going off in Emil's lab.

She glanced down and saw that her arm was hooked up to an IV. Following the tube with her eyes, she saw a pouch filled with a glowing green liquid. She shrieked.

"What the hell?" she said, scrambling to remove the IV. "What the hell is _that_ doing here? What's going on?" Strong hands restrained her and she looked up to see Oliver holding her down.

"_That_ is keeping you alive. Relax. You're safe."

Emil came bustling into the room and started checking her over.

"It's _not_ keeping me alive," she said, shoving Emil off of her. "It's _poison_," she added wildly. She slapped Emil's hand away, forcing Oliver to hold her arms down.

"Chlo, stop it. You already knew that you're body couldn't handle the sudden removal of all the green K. We had to add some back to your system to keep you from dying on us. It's as low a concentration as we could manage," he assured her.

Chest still heaving in panic, Chloe stilled herself enough for Oliver to release her, allowing Emil to come check her over at last.

After 'poking and prodding' her for what Chloe thought was an unnecessary amount of time, Emil deemed her healthy, and unhooked the IV.

When Oliver took Chloe home that night, he was really starting to wonder what was going to happen.

She'd spent the rest of the day with Lois, trying to keep her calm and assure her that everything was all right, and that her doctor was not a 'quack' and her overdose was not in any way his fault.

She hadn't said much to Oliver, yet she'd insisted on staying with him for the night, in spite of her cousin's protests.

"So what did Emil have to say on the phone earlier?" Oliver asked. The doctor had called Chloe's cell phone earlier in the night.

"That based on what he saw today, his plan to slowly introduce red K to my system should work--if followed according to his instructions--" she added ruefully, "as long as I'm willing to put up with the side effects until they wear off, which I am. Apparently, while Clark turns into a jerk, I just turn into a badass...and a bit of an airhead." She chuckled slightly until she saw the displeased expression on Oliver's face. She stopped mid-giggle.

"Do you have any idea how completely _stupid_ that was?"

Chloe couldn't help it. She smirked. "Funny, because when I grabbed the vial, I remember thinking, 'What would Ollie do?' "

Oliver's jaw dropped slightly.

"Well, think about it, it may not have been the most well-laid plan, but the point was to make sure that Checkmate couldn't use me for my meteor power. I absolutely _refused_ to be their pawn. As for the possibility of being killed by it, I still figured death was better than captivity."

Oliver stared at her. That was _exactly_ how he would have looked at it, but there was no way he was going to admit that. "Chloe, you didn't have to go to an extreme like that. We would have rescued you. It would only have been a matter of time."

"Meanwhile I would be having sticks poked at me while being forced to heal enemies once they figured me out, not to mention they'd be holding me hostage in order to trap the rest of you? I think not."

Oliver shook his head and laughed darkly. "You are some kind of woman."

"Which leads me to whether or not we get to have hot makeup sex now?"

Oliver looked at her in surprise.

She smirked but he could tell she was faking it. She was evidently very embarassed. "Well, while on red K, a few things became strangely clear to me. First, that I was being an idiot before. Second, that red K is SO much better than alcohol...not that I'm going to become a junkie for that, either," she added hurriedly, seeing he was unamused by her joke, "and third, that I really care about you and miss you." She looked at him, a little bit of nervousness betrayed on her face.

"Does this mean you might actually, I don't know, _talk to me_ when something's wrong?"

She nodded.

"And that you're going to lay off drinking for a while?"

She nodded again.

"And that I get to take you out in public?"

She looked startled, but he waited determinedly. Slowly she nodded.

"Excellent," he said, closing the space between them. "By the way, in addition to these demands, I expect to be referred to as 'Your Sexiness' for the rest of the night," he told her, kissing her in relief. He would have pressed the matter of how stupid a move she'd made back in Emil's office, but he realized it was pointless. It was after the fact, and she was stubborn. She'd never admit that she'd made the wrong choice, and he knew he needed to take what he could get.

Chloe laughed into his lips, making kissing rather difficult. "We'll see."

He laughed in return. "Do you know how much I missed you during this whole ordeal?" he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow suggestively. "I think I have a bit of an idea."

He rolled his eyes. "One-track mind," he accused her. "That's not what I meant."

"I'm sorry, Oliver," she said seriously.

"I'm sorry, who?" he asked, tilting his ear toward her.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, _Your Sexiness_."

**Author's Comment: Well, that's all there is; there isn't anymore. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**BlueSuedeShoes**

**P.S. As promised, here is the full prompt: Now, I readily admit that I didn't follow it to the T, but the basic ideas still came from here:**

"**Oliver and Chloe are dating, one night Chloe finds out she has her healing powers back after saving someone, this time she doesn't die doing it. From then on she starts drinking. Oliver starts worrying about her, because she starts becoming distance with him.**** One night she is at the bar drunk and Oliver finds her there. He tries to help her. She tells they about her healing powers. Anyway they didn't know the Tess was there and listen to them finding out about the healing power, and has her kidnapped. She want to use her, Its up to the gang to save her."**


End file.
